


Blast From the Past

by eggutarteu



Series: Logan Needs Love [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Logan is awkward, Time Travel, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014), future relationship, it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggutarteu/pseuds/eggutarteu
Summary: Logan runs into an unexpected surprise on his journey back in his days of future past.
Relationships: Logan (X-Men) & Reader, Logan (X-Men)/Reader
Series: Logan Needs Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024282
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

“Seriously Charles, your little playground buddy here screws us over a million times in the future, don’t you think we should-  **_Holy Shit_ ** .” 

Logan’s boots scuffed against the polished wood flooring as his long stride screeched to a sudden halt. There sitting in one of the plush armchairs of the professor’s office was an intimately familiar face, albeit a younger one. 

Your head snapped up at the sudden blurt of profanity. The plastic training balls flitted down into your lap as the electric energy that surrounded them retracted into your fingertips. 

“ _ Please _ , cleanse your tongue Logan.” Charles chided and walked through the doorway. The professor’s eyes met yours in an apologetic smile. Charles looked from the practice tools resting on your lap back up to your slightly startled expression. He sucked in a breath and then scrunched his eyes in remembrance. 

“I’m sorry my dear, our lesson today had slipped my mind.” Charles sighed, leaning tiredly against his desk. You shook your head, waving his absence off with a polite grin. 

“It’s alright, professor. Things come up I understand. I’ve been making some progress just practicing on my own.” You reassured, forcing a smile while trying very hard to not make eye contact with the lumberjack in the office entryway. 

He looked like he had just stepped out of one of your dad’s rock albums. His tight jeans were clasped with an ornate belt buckle that tucked in a cherry red plaid shirt that clung to hardened muscles. His eyes were mature but swam with amber vigor held under thick lashes that were just as dark and luscious as his hair and groomed beard.

The fact that you were able to take all these features in showed that your attempts at averting your attention were faulty. Your skin prickled as the two of you locked eyes and energy almost instinctively was drawn from your itchy fingertips. Something did indeed draw you to him, whether it was just because he was acting strange or something deeper, yet the way he looked at you wide eyed and slack jawed creeped you out. The professor had this knack for attracting the weirdos of the world. You supposed that was the foundation of your academy, after all. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” Charles replied, his eyes wrinkled up in a smile that briefly hid the bags under them. The professor looked absolutely exhausted. His shoulder length hair was mussed out of place and he practically collapsed into the plush cushions of his desk chair. He must have had a rough day of some sort, but you knew better than to pry in the dealings of such a high profile mutant. 

Looking insatiably more lively was his friend who was still regarding you like a dumbfounded high schooler. You eyed him again with a slight grimace, not liking the feeling of being like a deer in his headlights. And yet, the energy you picked up from him was strangely magnetic. 

Charles regained consciousness of the awkward silence and unintroduced guest and snapped out of his weariness. 

“Ah! Logan this is-” The professor began. 

“Y/N.” Charles finished, with Logan chiming in unison. Charles furrowed his brow in confusion and your eyes went as wide as the Victorian saucers on the Professor’s wall. Logan’s body stiffened like aged roadkill once he realized what he had just let slip from his lips. 

“How do you know my name?” You asked in accusation, your tone seeped in wary distaste. Logan felt like he had been doused in flames. As if he was about to burn up and fall through a hole in the office while the two of you watched over his demise. Honestly, that wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Uh-Charles was rambling on and on about his students on the way here to his office.” Logan stated gruffly, shifting his feet and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Fuck he was a dickwad. He only sounded vaguely convincing and left both you and Charles eyeing him. 

“Yes, you do know how much I like to praise my students.” Charles confirmed with a warm smile. 

You nodded once and pursed your lips. While flattered that the professor was talking about you to random people, you were nonetheless very much weirded out now.

“Well-I should get going. I don’t want to interrupt.” You stammered and awkwardly shuffled out of your seat, stumbling to collect all your belongings. You shoved the training balls back into their case without sparing either one of them at last glance. You weaved past Logan and out the door, a wave of fuzzy tingly buzzing between your forms as you sped walked away. 

“Alright, thank you darling. I promise we will resume our scheduled lessons tomorrow!” Charles called after you, voice increasing in volume but not intensity as you zoomed away. 

Two pairs of eyes traveled along with you, Charles’ stopping to glare at Logan who was still regarding you as you disappeared into the sea of students. He cleared his throat and Logan whipped his head back around. 

“I most certainly was not talking about her.” Charles quipped with a raised eyebrow. Logan retained his steely composure but on the inside he was drop kicking himself. Charles gave him a stern look, one that Logan was all too familiar with in the present, and inhaled deeply. 

“It’s curious how seeing as you do not possess a telepathic mutation how you would know her name. Are you trying to make my student uncomfortable? I hope it’s not for the reason I’m thinking of.” Charles mused, leaning back in his chair with an inquisitory glare on his features. 

“For fucks sake Charles, I’m not a pedophile. It’s-” Logan exhaled in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. He was here to finish one job and leave as little impact on the past as he could. And now he just fucked with one wing of the universe’s butterfly. 

“We know each other in the future.” Logan confessed, knowing that lying to Charles would only make things more complicated and suspicious. Plus the man would worm his way into his head eventually like he always does. Young Charles was just as sneaky as his older self at peeping into the thoughts of others if he deemed necessary. 

“Ah I see. You’re lovers.” Charles slyly stated, eyes alight with amusement as he sifted through Logan’s memories. Logan tightened his jaw at Charles’ excited giggle. He subdued his annoyance at the invasion of privacy for the sake of clarity. 

“Eventually.”

“Oh my, you two are indeed very close.” Charles snickered. 

_ Okay, time’s up.  _

“Alright, alright get out of my head. Do you have enough information now?” Logan grumbled and shook him out of his thoughts. Charles laughed heartily. 

“I apologize for preemptively judging you. But you know how it is, I only just met you. Just, I beg you, keep your hands off of her until she is legal.” Charles had a cheeky grin. Logan huffed and cooled his heated knuckles. Lest we not have a scratch fest between Megamind and a pokemon. 

⇷⛒⇸ 

The following afternoon your heart was still beating erratically every time you crossed the grand hallways of the mansion to weave in and out of class. The dread of accidentally interacting with the man from yesterday haunted your every step. His energy was an oxymoron; both alluring and repulsive in such a way it jumbled up your state of mind. 

Your hand was on the cool brass knob of one of the professor’s doors when you heard muffled voices from within the room. Your hand halted and you quickly released the handle as if it was molten metal. Pressing your ear to the wood, your ear was met with the calm voice of the professor. 

_ Logan, I know you want to ask about Y/N. _

Then there was silence. A silence that left his sentence hanging in anticipation that was almost unbearable. The mention of your name made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. 

_ Am I even allowed to?  _ The familiar rumble of the lumberjack asked and you sucked in a breath. 

_ I don’t see why not, as we both know the outcome of the future already.  _

Thousands of hypothetical scenarios behind that statement flew through your mind and sent your stomach flipping. But you were  _ so  _ curious. 

_ How’s she doing?  _ Logan asked in a tone as soft as morning coffee. 

_ Swimmingly, she’s one of the strongest mutants under my teaching.  _ Charles replied matter of factly. 

_ No, I mean-  _ Logan sounded like this wasn’t the correct answer. 

_ She told me that her high school years weren’t the easiest on her, especially with her family.  _

Your heart beat like a drum violently against your ears. How did he know about your family situation? What did he mean  _ you  _ told him? 

_ Ah. Well, yes, they have not been the most supportive of her expressing her mutation to say the least. Sadly that’s how it is for many of the other children too, but they haven’t been here to bother her as of late.  _

There was more silence that left you scrambling with your thoughts as you grappled with these revelations. 

_ I know she can get caught up in her head. I always regretted that I didn’t come in earlier to help her with some of the things she went through.  _ Logan added with the most sympathy you have heard in his voice. His comment sent a sharp pang into your chest and caused your energy to radiate in an electric blue aura around your body; a phenomenon that occurred when you felt intense emotion. 

Charles sighed and you heard shuffling as his voice got closer to the door. 

_ Logan, you can’t protect her from things that happened before you came into her life. And I assure you that she has a permanent home here should she wish to stay.  _

Suddenly a foreign pressure was poking either side of your hips, making you yelp and zone out of your eavesdropping. Your already buzzing energy zapped the disturbance and you whipped around to see a groaning Jean doubled over behind you. 

You cursed knowing that the two on the other side of the door probably heard the commotion. Gripping Jean by her backpack straps, you dragged her around the corner and behind the nearest pillar with haste.

“God Y/N, why are you so on edge? And did you really have to zap me?” Jean exclaimed with the most balanced mixture of annoyance and concern. You immediately shut her up with a finger to her lips. 

Not a moment later the door to the office opened to reveal the cause of your anxiety striding down the hall. 

“THAT.” You whisper yelled, pointing at Logan. Both your eyes followed him down the entirety of the hallway, kids parting around him like the red sea, until you watched him turn a corner. 

“More like who. Who was that?” Jean asked curiously, straightening her backpack out from your sudden attack. You fixed your eyes on the corner he had turned for a few more seconds to fully make sure the coast was clear. Then you let out a relieved sigh and turned to look at your friend. 

“I don’t know, but he seems to know me.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“Good, good you aren’t straining as much, your mind is much more focused.” Charles praised you from where he sat in front of you. Your eyes were closed, letting your energy guide the metal balls to various heights and patterns. 

“I think you won’t need these private lessons soon anymore, Y/N. Well done.” Charles praised you as you carefully lowered the balls down into your lap. His praise drew a bright smile from your lips, to which Charles matched. His greatest joy in life now was seeing his society-rejected pupils build confidence. 

You smiled bashfully and shook your head at his compliments. 

“Don’t say that, then I don’t have an excuse to spend time with my favorite professor.” You replied playfully. You were thankful that you had such a friendly bond with your teacher. Something comfortable, that left you feeling accomplished and motivated and unlike many other relationships you had before coming to this school. Charles chuckled fondly and held out his hands to take the training balls to which you gladly handed over. 

“Careful, Y/N I would think you have a crush on me.” He teased. While that might have been a scandalous comment with other students, you spent so much time with the man that he felt like an uncle or an older brother at this point. Your mutation was hard for you to control at times, and when it did get out of control you tended to spiral. When Charles discovered this, he had scheduled extra training times where the two of you grew to enjoy one another’s company. 

You shook your head and laughed. His comment made your mind backtrack to your mystery lumberjack and how his aura was almost as electric as your energy. 

“Um-Professor can I ask you a question?” You asked hesitantly, as if you were careful to not step on any cracks within the conversation. Charles looked up from where he was placing the training equipment back in their case. 

“Of course, what’s troubling you?” He assured, sensing your apprehension. 

“Who was that guy with you yesterday?” You asked and anxiously met his gaze.

“Eavesdropping on my private conversations?” He inquired with a knowing smile. His question was stern but his eyes retained their playfulness. 

“I-I’m sorry Professor, I was on my way to my lesson and I heard him ask about me-” You sputtered, feeling a heat pool to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. I know you heard our discourse yesterday.” Charles said with the ginger voice that could make anyone’s nerves mellow. 

Of course he knew. He knew _everything_. 

“I just can’t shake this weird feeling he gave me. Thinking about the way he looked at me makes my energy flare up.” You revealed, hugging your arms to yourself as just the thought of the man sent your mutation into a low azure trill. 

Charles noted the blurs of tendrils seeping through the stitches in your cardigan. With a sympathetic smile he came to sit across from you again. He took your hands in his and squeezed, a comforting gesture that quelled your mutation. 

Well, he had no choice now but to tell you at least some of the truth. Lest he have you be burdened and worried by the harmless situation. He pitied Logan as well. A man with so much weighing on his shoulders shouldn’t have to carry one more insignificant misunderstanding. 

“Do you promise to keep this between us?” Charles asked, looking for a promise within your gaze. You nodded sincerely. 

“Logan is-” Charles was silent for a moment while he calculated how he wanted to articulate his response. 

“Logan has, with the help of a mutant who is able to send people through time, traveled from the future to our present to take care of some things.” 

_Whoa._ Your mind was blown to say the least. You had no idea that such a feat was even possible and a plethora of questions buzzed in your ears. But did you really want to know? Plus, you gathered that you weren’t _supposed_ to know. 

“I thought you would be more shocked.” Charles chuckled at your bewildered look. You collected yourself and laughed nervously with him. 

“I mean, if you can read minds and I can create energy, why wouldn’t time travel be possible?” You countered, trying your best to accept the supernatural situation for what it was. Then again, everyone at your school was _above average_. 

“Fair enough.” Charles grinned. 

“Logan was shocked to see you because he is acquainted with you in the future, that is all.” He stated and patted your hands lightly. “You would be spooked by something like that as well, wouldn’t you?” 

_Huh._

You nodded, a wave of sympathy rushing through you. If the professor was so nonchalant about everything, you figured that you had nothing to worry about. You trusted him with everything you had, after all. 

“There’s nothing you need to worry about, my dear. I hope that cleared things up.” 

⇷⛒⇸

_It didn’t clear things up in the slightest._

Damn, nothing hit better than moose tracks ice cream at 1:12 am on a Thursday night. A woman on some late-night soap opera on the kitchen’s grand tv drawled squeakily about losing her husband to her much more _voluptuous_ sister while you took another spoonful of chocolate and caramel. You were thankful Kurt had not found your newest stash of insomnia ice cream yet, as tonight you were feeling particularly restless. Your usual anxieties (your mutation, the secrets you still kept from your family, and the normal teenage woes) were a dull trickle compared to the itch to know more about Logan. You tried to take comfort in the drawl of mediocre television and sugar. 

The professor’s words obsessively circled through your mind as you picked at every letter for a deeper meaning. 

_Logan is acquainted with you in the future._

The words revealed so much and so little at the same time. You had wanted the professor to define "close" but didn’t press further as you knew he was too sly to give too many details. The possibilities of your relationship with the stranger sent your head spiraling in a way you couldn’t tell if he made you nauseous with excitement or anxiety. 

However, now that you knew that the two of you were familiar down the road, it did make him seem like less of a creep and you slightly regretted making him feel like one. You couldn’t fully blame him for reacting the way he did. Although you don’t regret shooting daggers at him. 

With every bite of delicious dessert you tried to fathom his blast to the past which was actually a blast to your, well, _present._ You were halfway shoving a hearty chunk of ice cream into your mouth when a figure appeared in the doorway. You assumed it was a random student and did a double-take to find to your horror it was the man who was taking up too much space in your mind. 

The sudden movement charged you into a startle, nearly jumping off the stool and almost accidentally deep throating your spoon. 

He had ditched his patterned button-down and tight jeans for one of the professor’s training sweatshirts and heather sweatpants that equally left nothing to the imagination. Immediately you felt your ears simmer with a fuzzy warmth. 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck. It's Logan._

His name alone was enough to spark your energy and you could feel the diluted hum at the back of your head. 

“You alright?” He asked, the gravel of his tone making it oh so much worse. He looked genuinely concerned. His body lurched forward in the slightest when your coughing grew intense but retained his movements. He didn’t know you at this time and he had to be careful not to cross any boundaries. 

“Yeah.” You replied after one final trachea ripping cough, throat burning with unwanted dairy down the wrong pipe. You internally cursed yourself for always being so awkward. You wiped the stray ice cream splatters from your lips with the back of your hand and set the spoon back in the container. 

There was a moment of thick silence. Both of you clearly had heaps of unspoken words you wished to say to one another; you were just too overwhelmed to ask and Logan didn’t want to freak you out any more than he already had. 

“I didn’t think anyone would be up this late. Sorry to crash your-uh-” Logan raised his brow at the wailing coming from the tv. You quickly slapped the button on the remote to lower the volume.

“-drama.” 

“I-it’s okay, you don’t have to leave.” You invited, cautiously meeting his eyes once you tore them away from your ice cream. “The kitchen is a public space.” 

Logan nodded and walked towards the fridge. When he bent down a clear view of his ass smacked you in the face and you snapped your head in the other direction so quickly you almost got whiplash. He rummaged through the professor’s alcohol, sneering at his selection until he found a bottle of beer that was to his liking. 

He came to sit on the other side of the island from you, iron kitchen chair screeching against the floor in the silence you two shared. You rubbed your hands along your thighs to keep them from being clammy with nerves. There were a million things you wanted to ask him but zero ways you felt you knew how. Thank God he spoke up first. 

“Do you usually stay up until 1 am on school nights listening to shitty soap operas?” The statement might have been judgemental coming from anyone else. But from him, he had this glint in his eyes. Playful, even. It made butterflies scatter into every crevice your body had. 

“Only on the nights I can’t sleep.” You replied with an anxious chuckle. 

“Any particular reason that tonight is one of those nights?” Logan pressed, popping the cap off his beer bottle effortlessly. The stream rose from the drink akin to how you felt your energy could flood through your pores any minute now. 

_It’s you, buddy._

“Um, just your average anxiety. “ You said, trying to sound as casual as you could speaking to a man from the future. 

Logan rubbed his thumb idly along the bottle, nodding once and taking a swig. You yearned to know what he was thinking about. About his mission, about his future. About you. 

“About school? Boy trouble?” He asked with a quirked brow. 

_I guess you could consider it boy trouble if you squinted._

You breathily exhaled, resembling a laugh. _Fuck it._

“The professor told me who you are.” You blurted out. Logan looked at you inquisitively with his full attention on you now. Your promise was officially broken. 

“Did he now?” He quipped, his mind swimming with shitty cover-up stories. 

“More like I…I know we know each other in the future. I don’t know you personally.” You clarified. The heat on your face was the opposite of Logan’s ghostly paleness. 

“Damn Charles, his lips are as loose as his hair.” Logan mumbled. His throat felt so dry no matter how big of a swig of beer he downed. 

“It’s not his fault though! I was the one who was eavesdropping…” You confessed with a feeling of equal parts guilt and non-resentment. While you felt bad invading a private conversation now that you knew what you knew you wanted to know more. And for some inexplicable reason, it felt so _naturally_ easy for you to talk with him despite his intimidating exterior. 

“Is that your pass time?” Logan asked with a familiarity in his tone that gave you goosebumps. 

“It was an accident I swear! I was on my way to my lesson when I heard you guys talking.” 

“Chill, kid. I’m not mad.” Logan chuckled. The smile your panic conjured on his features held a fondness that made you feel as if your bones were hollow and filled with helium.

“Did he say anything else?” He asked. 

“No, he just said we are acquainted.” You stated, not having any more fruitful information to give. 

Logan felt like he could breathe again. Guess Charles did know how to strategically keep secrets. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Logan said and immediately chased his words with beer. He needed the familiar comfort of the drink to drown his nerves. 

You bit your lip and dug into your ice cream once more, unsure to press any further. There was that palpable silence once again that not even the television mother screaming at her _whore of a daughter_ could subdue.

You needed to know. The insatiable curiosity clung to your tongue like your last bite of chocolate.

“Um, but just- _how_ close are we exactly?” You squeaked, voice rising an octave in apprehension. 

Logan felt as if his heart was being stabbed by the very adamantium that lined his skeleton. The answer to your question could have rolled so effortlessly off of his tongue. He regarded your nervously expectant gaze; the rawness of your lips from worrying them, the flush of your round cheeks. He lingered on your eyes where his favorite blend of colors resided. They were identical to the ones that greeted him every morning. But they looked at him with the absence of their shared memories that made Logan’s separation from you sting even more intensely than it had already. 

He thought of the last time he had seen his Y/N. Her body was limp and bloodied as she laid on the metal slab. The ghastly sounds of screams and metallic whorling surrounded their compound as Storm bent over her and attempted to stop the gooey blood from seeping out of her torn skin. Kitty was urging Logan to relax, to not let his mind linger. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his beloved, though. Her broken body anchored him to his hellscape. 

And then she _smiled_ at him. As if her arm wasn’t twisted at an unnatural angle. As if she hadn’t gotten slammed by that sentinel. As if she were waiting for him outside of the Professor’s office to grab a coffee between classes. 

Her throat strained to produce any semblance of words. And when she did, it was a sentence that made Logan want to cry out in agony as he was blasted through time and space. Five words he had said to her too many times to count. 

_“I’ll see you later, bub.”_

So Logan’s logic for preemptively deciding to fuck all time travel rules and tell you was:

What if he never got to actually _see you later_? 

What if you had bled out or gotten captured while he was prancing around in the past?

His Y/N would always drill it into him that he was allowed to be selfish sometimes. That he had one of the biggest hearts of anyone she had ever known, despite doing a convincing job of hiding it. That when he felt an emotion he felt it like a searing hot iron against his skin. 

He hoped that you wouldn’t hate him for using this at his time to be selfish. Because goddam did it feel good to see you again, even if this you didn’t know him yet. 

And for all he knew this could be the last time he saw that magnificent swirl of chromatics staring at him, waiting for him to explain himself. 

“Do you really want me to tell you?” He asked, giving you one final chance to change your mind. 

You nodded a little too quickly for your liking. 

“Only if it doesn’t mess up anything in your time.” You added. 

“I think anything would be better than that at this point.” Logan chuckled dryly. Nothing you could do in this time could make his future any more horrid than it already was. 

You waited in anticipation, spoon clutched tightly in your hand. Logan noticed it vibrated with a low hum. 

“We’re...together.” He declared, watching you carefully to gauge your reaction. 

_Oh._

_Okay._

Logan had to swallow his laughter as your eyes grew so wide they looked as if they were going to pop out of your head and roll into the ice cream tub. Meanwhile, your brain was trying to put two and two together. 

You. Him. _Together._

…

…

…

_Get. It. Me._

“I get it if that’s weird for you to hear-”

“No! I mean yes, but I’m not creeped out anymore.” You sputtered, your words ejected from your mouth quickly. Logan regarded you softly. He thought your reaction was cute. 

“Well, that’s a relief.” He exhaled.

You gave up on subduing the impending blush and gave into the flustered warmth. You suddenly could not bear to look at his handsome face and your eyes trailed down to his hands. 

Specifically his left hand. 

Where a delicate silver band juxtaposed his strong ring finger. 

“WTF ARE WE MARRIED?” You shrieked, unable to contain your surprised gasp. Your spoon slammed into the wood of the table with such an abruptness that startled even Logan. 

He had honestly forgotten the significance to others of the precious band. With all of the darkness that surrounded him and the pressure of a sustainable future pushing down on his shoulders he hadn’t even had time to think about much of anything. But he would never dare take it off. It was the only piece he had of you now. 

“Uh, yeah. Kind of a last-minute decision.” He said with a half-grin the shape of a crescent moon. 

Kinetic tendrils radiated out of your body with such intensity that it casted a luminous blue aura around you against the dimmed kitchen lighting. You were fanning yourself with your hands in an attempt to calm yourself down from your shock; half from the bomb he just dropped on you and half from letting your mutation get out of hand like this. Logan patiently waited for you to come down from your high but couldn’t help the fond smile that blossomed. 

And then he let his body think before his brain. He reached his hand out and gently poked your cheek. However, it had the opposite reaction it usually had. When his finger met your skin, the zaps only intensified in the spot of contact. Logan hissed at the little jolt of electricity. 

“Huh, in my time that usually works.” He mumbled. He watched as your embarrassment grew and retracted his hand. He would use your cheek as an off switch in the future. Then he realized he had fucked up again and that he had just poked a damn kid that didn’t even know him. 

“Uh, sorry again. That was outta line.” He apologized, regret evident on his features. You shook your head, a few blue sparks prickling from the corners of your eyes. The seriousness in his voice mixed with the sincerity of his action started to calm you down and your energy began dissipating slowly. 

“I-It’s okay. If future me trusts you enough to marry you, you must be a good guy.” You exhaled a bashful chuckle and fiddled with the edges of the ice cream tub. 

Logan wanted to roar with self-deprecating laughter at your comment because he _definitely_ did not think he was a good guy. He would forever be perplexed as to why you agreed to spend the rest of your life with him. When he didn’t respond your brain spiraled into overthinking.

“Sorry.” You apologized, rubbing your arms along the sleeves of your cardigan. 

“For what?” Logan asked with a newfound delicateness as he waited for you to clarify. 

“U-um, people are usually freaked out when my mutation gets crazy like that.” You sputtered. No stranger had ever been so casual about your mutation before besides the Professor. 

“It has never bothered me. Except when you use it to zap me.” Logan explained, adding the last bit hoping it would ease your apprehension. 

Oh duh. Of course he was used to it, he’s your fucking husband. You let out an airy chuckle at the thought of you zapping the wolf of a man just as you did to Jean yesterday. 

“I’ve always thought it was beautiful.” Logan sighed with a glaze over his eyes. You gasped at his openness and he came back to the reality of the situation.

“Shit. Sorry. Weird comment.” He huffed and shook his head. He was really losing his filter with you. 

You shook your head vehemently. Honestly, you didn’t mind his offhand comments. It made you feel...well...loved. 

“No! It’s okay. I just-um thanks.” You smiled softly through fields of blooming roses. The tension you had initially felt drifted away like a clearing of fog. You put faith in your future self to associate with people who you knew were good for you. At least you hoped. His intimidating aura that had you weary before was completely worn down. You oddly felt so at ease in his presence. It was a total 180 from the day before. You began to get bolder with your speech. You noticed all you had been focusing on was you, and you desperately wanted to know more about him. 

“So, on the flip side it must be weird seeing a younger version of your girlfriend who didn’t know you existed until a day ago.” You laughed at your own sentence and Logan did too. 

“Yeahhh, this whole experience has been a trip.” He nodded and took another gulp of beer. 

“I’m sure you must be working towards something super important if you’ve traveled back here in time.” You said, biting your lip in an internal decision of pressing further. 

“What kind of stuff do you have to do? Or is that a secret of the future?”

“Definitely a secret.” He stated with a firm nod. You pursed your lips and hummed in agreement. 

“Well, I hope you can get back to everyone, and me, safely.” You added with a timid swirl of your spoon in your ice cream. 

“Thanks, kid. Me too.” 

You were unsure where to go from there in the conversation but you oh so longed to keep talking. So you went to the most obvious topic for any mutant. 

“So, um, what is your mutation?” You asked, perking up at all of the infinite possibilities. 

Logan paused momentarily. No one has ever asked to see his mutation before. His claws were more of an experience first, ask later. It felt...refreshing. 

Without introducing it, he slid his right hand along the table and balled it into a fist in front of you. The tight muscles flexed as the skin of his knuckles ripped apart to reveal ivory claws of bone. You gasped; in fear at first but when you glanced up at Logan’s unaffected demeanor, it morphed into intrigue. 

“Holy crap. Is it painful?” You asked, mesmerized by the way they symmetrically protruded from each piece of flesh. If you had looked up at your kitchen buddy once more your heart would have surely melted. He watched you with a fondness that many strangers would not fathom could come from such a man. 

Most of the time he absolutely _loathed_ himself, his mutation, and what it could do to those he loved. But with you, even oblivious, younger you, it had never been the what if. It was always the _is_ , and you had never not accepted Logan for anything but his whole being; adamantium and all. 

“A bit, but I’m used to it after all these years.” He answered gruffly as he felt the uncomfortable squeeze of the claws retracting back into his hand. You observed the process wide-eyed. 

“You didn’t need to show me if it hurts! Do you need bandages?” You sputtered. You began freaking out a bit at the scabbing that started to occur. 

“Nah, watch.” Logan gestured to his hand. The healing process had already started to kick in and you watched in awe as the skin autonomously stitched itself completely back to normal. 

“You can heal.” You stated the obvious in your amazement. Logan chuckled and nodded. 

“In the future they are metal. I’ve been trying to get used to the old feeling.” He replied with a flex of his fingers. 

“How does that work? Do you get implants or something?” You inquired innocently, blissfully unaware of all the physical hardships that had gone into making him who is he today. 

“That’s a story I’ll tell you later.” He said curtly. You picked up on the uneasy energy and nodded in understanding. 

“They look kinda like cat claws.” You commented absentmindedly, feeling comfortable enough to start eating your ice cream again. Logan snorted. 

“God, you are the same.” Your comment cultivated a fully bloomed grin across his face. You imitated the gesture. 

“Really? I’m glad I still have my charm. It’s a relief I didn’t grow up to be stuffy like Hank.” You said with a hint of snark. Logan laughed at your confession and then took another drink of alcohol. It was a beautiful laugh, one that wasn’t as rugged as his outward appearance. 

“You aren’t. We wouldn’t have gotten to where we are in the future if you were, trust me.” Logan’s eyes were clouded with a nostalgic haze as he looked at you. There was a duality to his vision; physically he was viewing your past self, but he kept seeing his Y/N in the little gestures and comments you made. It was like he was looking at two people superimposed on the same image. Which was true, in a sense. 

“Earlier you said ‘all these years’ like an old man. How old are you? You don’t look older than 30.” You pressed. Logan’s beer got dangerously close to going down the wrong pipe. He would never be able to escape you calling him an old man, would he? 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Duh.”

He let the anticipation simmer for a few moments. 

“143.” 

You immediately started stuttering and Logan held up a hand to stop you. He knew he had just ripped a whole new asshat of questions but was not going to indulge you. Even if he desperately wanted to continue experiencing your adorable curiosity. 

“You’ll find out later.” He promised. You slumped your shoulders in defeat and decided to push your luck with another personal question. 

“How do we meet?” You perked up once more. 

“Let’s just say it involves torrential rain and a skateboard.” He revealed. The way your face contorted reminded Logan of his Y/N. 

“Really looking forward to that one.” You said sarcastically. You studied the soft rain droplets against the grand window panes behind Logan in thought.

“What about Jean? Scott? Ororo? Kurt? The Professor? How are they doing?” 

Logan fought to keep his face from falling. Suddenly the harsh reality popped his temporary bubble of sweetness that you had created. 

“Sorry, bub. That’s a secret. You gotta find that out for yourself.” 

You pouted slightly but nodded in agreement. I guess it would be better to not know. Your mind still swam with so many questions. One in particular was itching to come forth. 

“How do I look?” You asked with such a delicacy that made Logan’s heart swell. The older you had confided in him that you never liked how you looked, mutation and all. Once you had worked through becoming more confident in your powers, your confidence in your self appearance naturally followed. 

Logan inhaled deeply and gave you a sad half-smile as he saw you begin to sink into yourself once more. 

“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Not so far off from how you are now.” Logan reassured. The baritone and the roughness of his voice dictated in such a way that was comforting and like velvet on your ears. It was said with a sincerity that wasn’t laced with lust, just affection. 

“Sorry, again. _Fuck_.” Logan grumbled inwardly. You giggled at his constant attention to making sure he doesn’t come off as creepy.

“Thanks Logan. Future me is lucky to have you.” You said earnestly. 

“Ha, once you get there you will see it's really the other way around.” 

“I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.” You sighed in contentment. 

“There are so many things I want to ask you still.” You professed after a chocolatey spoonful. 

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was enjoying it more than he would ever let on. You were always a presence that he relished in. A beacon that brought him so much clarity in the hurricane of shit he was trying to fix. 

“Shoot, within reason.” Logan offered, resting his head on his palm and still held his beer in the other. You sat up straight and cleared your throat in preparation. 

“Is the professor’s hair still crazy?” 

“Let’s just say it's very different.” 

~

“Who is president?” 

“Nope.”

~

“Do we have a dog?”

“No pets allowed here.”

~

“Is NSYNC still together?” 

“Do I look like I listen to boybands?”

“Fair enough.” 

~

“Do I get taller?”

“No.”

“Dammit.” 

You hesitated then. Logan could see that the next question had gotten lodged in your throat. 

“Your family?” 

“How did you guess?” You asked with a tinge of shock. Logan was all too familiar with your nervous mannerisms. 

“They were the only ones you didn’t ask about.” Logan replied and you smiled flatly. 

“Have they been bothering you lately?” He asked in knowing concern.

“When don’t they?” You huffed with an arid chuckle. 

“Are they less shit right now?” Logan altered the question to be more accurate. 

“In a way. But that’s the weird thing.” You paused to gather your thoughts. 

“I don’t want them around because they don’t accept me. They make a big deal out of coming to the mansion where the _mutations_ live, yet when I go home I get lectured about suppressing my abnormalities. All they do is make me feel like an outcast. But at the same time when they’re not around I feel like I have _no_ family.” You fought the quiver in your voice as you let your pent up feelings spill out and rest on the table as soupy as your discarded ice cream. 

Your confession broke Logan’s heart. He understood the pain of being alone intimately. 

“Kid, your family is right under your nose.” He consoled. You gave him a quizzical look. 

“Who are you closest to here?” Logan inquired. 

“Jean, Kurt, Ororo, Jubilee, the professor, sometimes Scott.” 

Logan looked unamused at the mention of the sunglasses boy. 

“Bingo.” He stated and leaned back in the kitchen chair. 

“Bingo?” 

“Those names you just mentioned as far as I’m concerned are as much family as your actual one. You are all going through this shit together and will always have a home in each other.” 

You were in awe at his sweetness and his ability to ease your worries with just a simple phrase. 

“You go on to make so many kids feel like they have a family, Y/N.” Logan finished with a fond smile. 

“I do?” You asked reflexively, still bathing in his honeyed supportive words. 

“Mhm.” 

His revelation left you with a stupid grin that Logan fought to tease you about. His eyes then fell to the clock on the kitchen counter just behind your shoulder. It was nearing 2 am. Logan figured he could talk to you for a bit longer. 

“Here, one little story.” Logan began, sure that this anecdote would cheer you up. He continued to break his one rule of keeping the future hush-hush but he was beyond giving a damn. You were his ultimate weakness, after all, in every version of reality. 

Your expression was of pure giddy. 

“What’s your dad’s most prized possession?” Logan asked, setting the scene. 

“His golf trophy.” You answered without hesitation. You leaned in closer to the counter in anticipation. 

“Let’s just say that in a few years time that man will be decorated with three claw marks through his golden ass.” Logan smirked. You laughed in satisfaction. That trophy was _all_ your dad ever talked about and you swore most of the time he cared about it more than you or your little brother. 

It was otherworldly. You felt so much affection, affinity, protection, and love from a stranger. You were second guessing if you really weren’t asleep in your bed already and all of this was a fever dream. 

And there you stayed for a while longer into the rainy moonlit hours, continuing to chat about anything and everything (within reason). You were surprised that he wanted to even listen to your dumb teenage angst and nerdy ramblings, even if he was your future husband. 

When yawns had begun to seep into your speech and Logan’s second beer bottle grew hollow, you decided it was time for you to finally attempt to go back to sleep. It was a school night after all. Logan insisted on walking you back to your room. The journey through mahogany halls and quiet corridors was experienced in silence. You noted how Logan made sure the two of you were walking at least three feet apart for which you guessed was to tame the awkwardness. Your heart panged at his thoughtfulness to not overstep boundaries that you were sure didn’t exist with your future self. 

‘This is me.” You cheesily pointed over your shoulder as you arrived at your dorm room. Logan nodded with a sad smile that you chose not to comment on. As he took in your doe eyes and youthful innocence he silently prayed to whatever the higher power in this world was that he wouldn’t do anything to fuck up your future. 

His future.

Their future.

_Our future._

“Thanks for talking with me so late and putting up with my annoying questions. I know how trippy this situation must be for you.” You said bashfully, trying to quell the smile that kept blossoming further as you thought about your previous conversation.

“Of course, kid. Anything for you, always.” Logan said, catching your contagious grin and returning it. 

“Thank you for not being scarred.” He added with a ruffle of your hair. You giggled and nodded once. 

“Well...goodnight Logan.” You said with a voice barely above a whisper. You felt your throat attempt to seize up as you uttered the words of your farewell. 

Logan sensed your sadness and he playfully smirked. 

“It’s only goodnight, bub. Not goodbye forever.” He snickered at the blush his teasing caused. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said gently, lingering for a moment while you turned the knob of your door and disappeared to the other side. Upon hearing the soft snores of Ororo the hand that remained on your doorknob reversed its action so you were now standing in the empty hall once more. You barely caught Logan retreating towards the nearest staircase when you called out. 

“Um, Logan?” Your voice was timid, awkward. Logan turned around to see the ginger halo of your energy caressing your skin.

“Yeah?” He answered as you padded over to him. 

“Is it okay if I-” Your energy buzzed at the unfinished phrase like delicate blue petals being kissed by the breeze. 

“If I give you a hug?” 

Logan felt his heart swell to the point that it almost ballooned out of his chest. Utter affection blanketed his features as a tender nostalgic grin tugged at the corners of his lips. You always did know how to bring the teddy bear out of his usual grizzly. He extended his arms outward in a silent invitation. Truth be told, he had wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms in the most innocent of yearning

You hesitated slightly before entering his embrace. His strong arms enveloped you in a comfort akin to a warm crackling campfire. Your energy kissed Logan’s skin with the familiarity of an old friend and momentarily pacified any worries Logan’s nerves harbored. You melted into his chest and wished you didn’t have to pull away as soon as you did. The feeling Logan swore would get him through his journey back to you. 

⇷⛒⇸

Logan rose with the sun and was just about to exit the spacious foyer of the mansion lobby when a muffled thud resounded on the floor just above him. Charles and Hank looked up in mild alarm. Charles halted their departure and waited expectantly. After a few moments, your disheveled form zipped down the stairs; backpack half open, one sneaker dangerously close to being untied, and hair tie clenched tightly between your teeth. The way you were trotting so vigorously made the older men cringe. The image of you face planting down the ornate stairs was not a far cry from reality. 

“Wait!” You called breathlessly as you hurried towards the group.You surely would have body slammed Charles if he hadn’t been ready to brace your collision. 

“Y/N, shouldn’t you be on your way to class?” The professor questioned in the form of a playful scolding. Your chest heaved and your breaths were ragged. 

“I _promise_ I will after I say goodbye to Logan. Give me five minutes, professor!” You pleaded between labored breaths and smiled widely at Logan. 

Charles chuckled warmly and nodded. He grabbed Hank by the arm lightly and led him outside into the courtyard, leaving you alone with your lumberjack. 

“You know, this isn’t the last time you will see me, kid.” Logan said with a wiggle of his brow. “Just can’t get enough of me no matter what decade can you?”

You snorted and looked at him pointedly. 

“More like you can’t get enough of _me_. Time traveling all the way back here to sabotage my budding romance with Scott.” You feigned annoyance, but your comment seemed to unintentionally piss him off. Wow, you couldn’t wait to find out what kind of beef they had in the future. 

“Hold your damn horses, sweetheart. But he and Jean-” He couldn’t bite his tongue quick enough and let a precious piece of information spill from his lips. Your energy threatened to spark at the nickname he spoke so effortlessly. 

“They’re fighting after Scott accidentally stood her up when they were supposed to go to the movies-wha hey how do you-”

“Not important.” Logan nipped your thought right in the bud. 

“Scott asked me to the Professor’s formal. But I would never agree, Jean’s one of my closest friends. I was gonna go with Kurt anyway.” You explained with a shrug. 

“A-as friends!” You added quickly and Logan huffed out a laugh. 

“Hey, live your life how you want. Just please, anyone but Scott.” He chided with clear amusement sparkling in his eyes. You hummed and bounced on your heels. 

“Hmm? So only date Scott?” You challenged with a sing-song to your tone. Logan gave you a long, hard glare before his lips cracked upward. 

“Goddamn you are really something.” He chuckled in disbelief. 

“How long till we meet again?” You chirped a bit too excitedly for your taste. 

“Again, I can’t tell you. But it’s not that far off. Just enjoy the present, do your best, don’t doubt yourself or your abilities.” You nodded at Logan’s sweet words.

“Now come here.” He invited you into his embrace with open arms. You gladly jumped in, his strong arms engulfing your smaller frame. He overwhelmingly smelled like pine and smoke. It was a scent that made you feel like you were huddled around a campfire, delicately blazing brightly against a thick spruce grove. When you pull away, you and Logan exchange one more pair of bright smiles. 

“Say hi to me in the future for me! Tell her she looks hot as hell.” You chimed from the mansion doorway. 

“You don’t think I don’t already do that?” Logan winked, walking backward and then turning to regroup with your professors. When they were about to get into Hank’s car, you gave one more parting remark. 

“Logan!” You called quickly. He turned around, one hand on the backseat door. 

“Keep wearing those jeans in the future, your ass looks bomb!” You screeched and with inhuman speed disappeared back into the mansion. 

Logan had the faintest of blush dusting his tanned cheeks. Charles roared with laughter, causing Logan to glare at him. 

“I guess I was wrong about who the perverted one was.” The professor hummed with a shit-eating grin as Hank shifted the car into drive.


	3. Chapter 3

Logan's eyes snapped open when the pressure of his head sent him flying upwards. He fisted the sheets, claws instinctively extending. 

Wait. 

Sheets?

He looked at his surroundings through ragged breaths. He soaked in every detail of the room, afraid he wasn’t really experiencing reality. The longer he stared, the more he was sure he was definitely in your shared room at the mansion. At the side of the bed was one of his shirts discarded on the floor. Lying next to it was your lace bra-

His eyes widened and he frantically pulled the tee-shirt over his head and burst out of the room. He ran down the hall, his bare feet slapping aggressively against the polished wood. He almost wiped out when he turned the corner to the master staircase. His head was screaming at him to stand still but he resisted, pushing through the bombardment of angry pulses that clenched his skull.

He stopped when he reached the main lobby. He let his mouth fall agape at the state of it. Everything looked blissfully normal. The high ceilings were lined with familiar paintings untouched by destruction. A few students passed him with weird looks as he continued to stare in awe at the perfection in the mundanity of his present. Yet, the sinking feeling that he was still unconscious hooked at his heart. 

“In a rush this morning, Logan?” A smooth voice called to him. Logan felt his body freeze over in the icy curls of utter shock. His head swiveled ever so gingerly in the direction of the voice and his breath curdled itself in his throat. 

“Jean.” He exhaled, voice a ghost in the air. 

“Logan.” Jean responded with a furrow of her brow. Everything about her signaled life; her skin was flushed a plush cream, her hair shown of vibrant embers in the morning sunlight that filtered through the large windows, and her face shown with animated confusion at his strange antics.

Did he succeed?

Did he really do enough? 

Jean waited for a few more puffs of deep breaths from the disheveled man before speaking up again.

“You look like you just woke up from a bad night out.” She joked as she walked closer. The crisp tapping of her heels on the floor was sensory overload against his raging headache. 

He huffed out a chuckle at her comment. Her concern grew when he continued to stare at her intensely.

“Logan, is everything okay?” She asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly at the contact but relaxed almost immediately. Logan massaged his temples and scrunched his eyes closed. He inhaled and opened them. To his elation, Jean still stood in front of him. He was starting to believe that he really had just woken up from many years of a torturously gruesome nightmare. 

“Yeah-I’m fine. I just need to speak to Charles.” Logan croaked, his vocal cords scratching at the dryness of his throat. Jean nodded with worry laced on her features. 

“Okay. He should still be in his office, I just came from there.” She explained and patted his shoulder. When he didn’t budge from his daze, Jean regarded him with the same curious look as the earlier passing students. 

“Do you want to come by for a check up later?” She suggested, lip upturning when his eyes continued to bore into her. She waved a hand in front of his face and he blinked a couple times before groaning. He snapped back to the present as his mind continued to swim with his jumbled timelines. 

_The present_. 

“Yeah, I think I need that.” 

⇷⛒⇸

When he stumbled to Charles’ office, his door was cracked open enough for Logan to catch a glimpse at that familiar bald head. He entered the room with the creek of wood that alerted the professor to his arrival. He pivoted his wheelchair to face his guest, sending him a warm smile that stretched all the way to his wrinkled eyes. 

“Good morning Logan. Decided to teach history class barefoot today?” Charles remarked. Logan felt himself beginning to space out again like he did with Jean but he fought the numbing haze. 

“Actually, I might need some help with that.”

“Help with what?” Charles inquired and narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m back.” Logan stated breathlessly. Charles paused and his face contorted in understanding. 

“Welcome back.” 

⇷⛒⇸

After talking with Charles, Logan found that to his relief, hadn’t missed much. His actions had completely erased the development of the sentinels and had dropped him back off in the present a few months before the catastrophe. He had awkwardly ran into a couple more friends and acquaintances alike on his way back to your room to solve the bare feet problem everyone kept pointing out. He was halfway down your hall when the voice endowed with the energy that powered his very lifeforce jolted him to a stop. 

“There you are, Lo.” You called sweetly behind him. When he whipped around, the sight before him bashed him with the raw sharpness of a tsunami wave. 

Your hair was pulled out of your face, stray baby hairs delicately caressing the edges of your temple. You looked lovingly comfy; sporting leggings and a sweatshirt you had gotten from the last school trip to the natural history museum. You clutched some paperwork to you as you beamed at Logan with sun rays powerful enough to plow through his chest and spear his heart. 

No blood. 

No broken bones. 

_You_. 

“Did you go on a run?” You asked as you continued walking towards him. Your face morphed in perplexion when you looked to his feet. 

“Without shoes?” You giggled. You didn’t get a chance to ask why he wasn’t responding when suddenly you were engulfed in his embrace. The force of him barreling towards you caused you to stagger backward slightly but he held you so tightly as if letting you go would cause you to dissociate into luminous beams of starlight. 

“Jesus Logan...Can’t breathe.” You squeaked when he buried his face in the crook in your neck. 

He basked in your spirit. Your arms that immediately cradled his body. The way they tightened when you began to sense him shaking. The softness of your skin. The familiar scent of vanilla that had grown to become synonymous with home. 

“I’m back.” He breathed into your neck. You ran your hands along his back gently. 

“From…?” You asked, still unsure of why he was acting so strangely. Logan kicked himself mentally. Of course you wouldn’t remember.

“My run.” He coughed, face still nestled against your skin. You brushed your fingers through his hair as he inhaled deeply. 

“A run in time?” You asked cheekily. You felt his body stiffen and he pulled away to look at you. When your eyes met, eternities of futures, pasts, and presents collided with cosmic swirls. In that moment, time no longer reigned over its kingdom and Logan was no longer its servant. 

“Wha-?” He stuttered. 

_Did you…?_

“I saw you half an hour ago. You’re hugging me like we haven’t seen each other in decades.” 

Your eyes began bubbling with tears when you saw Logan’s eyes grow wet with years of unspoken emotion. You placed your hands on either side of his face. 

“Welcome home.” You rejoiced, leaning up to place your lips lovingly on his. The kiss cemented Logan in this plane of existence, tethering him to today and permanently replacing all of the unperceived sufferings you had experienced. His lips moved against yours with the hunger of a thousand ghastly nights spent in constant fear, thirty days of crippling uncertainty of his return, and one beautiful evening of ice cream and soap operas. Your energy buzzed around the two of you, engulfing Logan in a chamber of velvety heat that he had yearned to feel again. 

You responded in full, but could not keep up with his vigor that was still squeezing your lungs. You pulled away, breathlessly taking in his touch starved form. 

“I love you, Y/N.” Logan professed. Though his voice was weak, his words could not have been more fortified with passion. 

“And I love you, Logan.” You returned, thumbs wiping away the tears that he let fall freely. 

“How about you go grab some shoes, and we take a walk. You can finally tell me about what happened in your past-future, right?” You smiled through your sniffles. Logan only nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. 

“There’s nothing I would love more than that.” He shakily agreed. You gave him another affectionate grin before taking his hand and leading him to your room. 

“Future’s past? Future of the past?” You began rattling off phrases as your face scrunched in thought. Logan smiled widely down at you and shut up your ramblings with another tender kiss. You chuckled and leaned into him. 

“Well, I guess whatever future you had is your past now.” You concluded as you reached your door. 

“Yeah. My past.” 


End file.
